I’ve been wondering something for some time now. I’ve been told by doctors and literature that breastmilk takes on the flavors of whatever foods mom eats, so to be careful about strong-flavored stuff like spicy foods, heavy garlic, things that may make the baby resist breastfeeding. I’ve heard of breastmilk taking on a sweet flavor because of mom eating fruits or sweets. Medical people have advised me that what I eat, the baby eats, so if she’s constipated, to drink prune juice, and it’ll get to her. (It works.) Here’s the question. How does the food go from my stomach into the breastmilk? If flavors and nutrition from foods are retained that means food isn’t being molecularly broken down, filtered, and then used as raw materials (like blood) for the body’s milk glands to do their thing; it means instead that foods are, to some extent, going directly from my digestive system to the milk glands. I don’t remember in any anatomy classes seeing a straw connecting stomach to boobs, so how is this done?
I guess I should wiki this process.
P.S. This has nothing to do with the post, but my courtroom assistant just told me she was watching Oprah’s show last night and Neil Patrick Harris and his partner were on, talking about their two new babies, and how THEY FOLLOW THE SLEEP BOOK. Oprah seemed skeptical when the two of them explained about the sleep needs of their babies and how their babies sleep from 7p-7a. They were supposedly good, well-informed parents and very much advocating allowing the babies to have what they need, i.e. giving them the opportunities at the right times to nap and sleep for the night. I’m glad to see “Barney” is on my side on this! I don’t mind being a slave to Allie’s sleep needs and naps for the first couple of years of her life, because it does so much for her growth and temperament. I don’t need an avid social life; I’ve lived for 35 years for myself, what’s giving just a couple to my baby as she starts off life? I hope Mr. W doesn’t get too resentful, tho.
I’ve wondered for a long time now whether the sausage pizza and breadsticks served at children’s mecca restaurant Chuck E. Cheese’s is really as good as I remembered from childhood, or whether the food was just delicious relative to my immature taste buds and enjoyment of myself in a play environment. For years, I’d been wanting to go back to check. I suspected that my adult tastebuds, more attuned to quality, natural foods and freshness rather than processed foods, would revolt. I was excited to finally put Chuck E. Cheese’s to the test on Sunday for lunch with Mr. W and Allie when Mr. W spontaneously offered to go there for lunch. Turns out, I would never find out.
The children’s restaurant chain has completely evolved. The menu has a variety of gourmet sandwiches on ciabatta bread, vegetable platters, buffalo wings, an all-you-can-eat salad bar, and was advertising a “new” quality pizza with lots of deluxe ingredients as opposed to the cheese, pepperoni and sausage options in the days of my childhood. Gone was the giant vat of colorful balls that kids used to leap into despite rumors we all heard of hidden rats, vomit, and syringes in its depths. So much for nostalgia. This Chuck E. Cheese’s was clean, advanced, had carousels and arcade machines, even a toddler section fenced off from the regular kids section. Upon entry, Allie was stamped with an invisible-to-the-naked-eye number and Mr. W and I were stamped with the same hidden number so personnel can be sure we leave with the same child we brought in. The prizes that can be redeemed for game tickets, however, were as cheesy and cheap as ever. We ordered a deluxe combination pizza with a salad bar and I can tell you, everything was delicious to my more sophisticated tastes. =P
Even though Allie is on solids, she was denied the pizza she kept trying to grab. She wasn’t happy about that.
Allie: “I don’t accept your explanation of why I can’t eat the food at a place that’s designed more for me than for you.”
Don’t feel too bad for her; she got a yummy zucchini and rice puree when we got home. She enjoyed THAT. Plus, she got to make new friends with giant painted rodents and drive and ride new things, like horses.
“Hey Chuck, maybe you should drive. I can’t seem to reach the steering wheel with my feet, even.”
“This pony is kinda small, even for me, daddy. I feel silly.”
“Okay, now THIS pony is too big! I’m not sure I like this.”
“I’ll drive you to school, daddy.”
“All abooooooard!”
“So this is a schoolhouse? Nooooo! Let me out of here!”
Breaking out of the school.
“Don’t worry, mouse, I’ll break us out of this joint. Just sit back, relax, and leave it to me.”
“I’ll just start the ignition…”
“…check the mirrors and look over my shoulder as I back out…”
“…and we are on our way!”
“Awwww, pulled over by Daddy! What are the chances?!”
Back to school. Hard labor in the schoolyard.
What does the “E” stand for in “Chuck E. Cheese,” anyway? What’s this rat’s full name, Charles Edward Cheese?
On Saturday, we were running low on our supply of baby wipes (not that we need a lot anymore cuz she’s been pooping clay-like balls since she’s been on peas that we can just pick up in one neat non-stick wad) so we took Allie on a Costco run. Mr. W is impulsive of a shopper, but now he’s impulsive for bigger-ticket-items for his baby girl. I couldn’t talk him out of buying her a 3-stage tricycle or a jogger stroller that converts to a bicycle trailer. So Allie got some cool new rides.
The tricycle by Little Tikes, I had to admit reluctantly, is fun and functional. There’s a flexible sun-shade that can be moved to block sunlight from any angle. The detachable steering wheel panel has buttons and signals with sound effects and lights. Each time Allie turns the wheel, the turn signal clicks and blinks just like in a car. She’s a little young for even the first stage (no pedaling required, there are stationary foot rests for her to rest her little feet on), as she can’t even reach the foot rests. The trike at this stage is controlled by a parent pushing/turning a steering stick behind the trike, and the steering is surprisingly easy and responsive from that apparatus.
There’s even a zippered storage pouch and a cupholder on the parent-control stick for the parents, plus ample storage for toys, etc. on a little bin attached to the back of the trike. I’m not sure the differences between stages 2 and 3, but I suppose at some point the parent-steering is removed and the kid can pedal him/herself around. Maybe the interactive effect with steering wheel comes off so only the handlebars are on the front. Here’s a video demo of our little walk.
Here’s the conversion jogger/bike trailer. It’s big enough and has the seatbelt arrangements for two kids, which for a 6-month-old like Allie means we’ve gotta find something to stuff in there on her left and right so she doesn’t fall over on her side during a bump. She’s young for this thing, too; Mr. W did a turnaround run at our cul de sac and when I saw Allie coming back up the driveway, her eyes were wide, she had her arms outstretched with hands facing behind her like she was trying to hang into something (but there’s nothing to hold onto) at the back for support, and she had slid down and was slumping in her seat. This isn’t going to work, there’s just too much room and too little support in there. But the unit is cool; the back wheels are removeable and click on easily, and once off, the entire thing collapses pretty flat for storage. A big window/entrance in the front has a zippered screen to block flying rocks, perhaps, and a transparent vinyl window can be rolled down and zippered over the screen to waterproof the cabin when necessary. The front wheel and axle can removed and an included metal arm attachment popped on to attach the unit to the back of an adult bicycle. We didn’t try this part, yet, and I didn’t try the stroller myself, so I don’t have much feedback on that.
I tried to get Mr. W to save some money by not getting these things, yet, but he said that Costco’s inventory is sporadic so if we don’t get these now, they may not be available once Allie is big enough for them. She can just grow into them. Allie’s gonna be one spoiled girl when she gets her first car at age 13. Every kid should be so lucky as to have an impulse shopper for a loving daddy.
We got a 3-week civil jury trial yesterday. Today we’re starting jury selection. I was dreading this because a case this complicated (6 attorneys in the courtroom representing plaintiff, multiple corporation defendants and individual cross-defendants) means I’ll have to REALLY stay on top of it, the exhibits will likely be crazy. However, I have to leave at 9:30 a.m. and 3:30 p.m. during session to pump. I won’t have the jury room to use for that, since we’re going to have jurors, so I’ll have to go elsewhere to pump, which will add to the time away. When I come back, I’ll have a hard time catching up without Louise’s transcriptions coming through my computer on realtime so I can see who a witness is, what rulings have been made, what exhibits have been introduced, etc. This is our first trial without a regular assigned building court reporter, thanks to new provisions in place due to the state of California’s fiscal shortfalls.
Our regular reporter Louise has been clearing out her office, getting ready for being a full-time floater reporter starting Monday. She will be at the mercy of her headquarter offices, and has to call in each morning to see where in the entire County of Los Angeles they decide to send her for the day. She may be driving 2 hours away if they decide there’s a need in Lancaster, for example.
Louise is here today finishing up her packing, and very nicely has helped the private reporter that the attorneys have hired with plugging into the realtime equipment, giving her a heads up on the habits and likes of the judge, etc. The floater reporter, thank goodness, does do realtime and it has been working all morning. She kept commenting how nice Louise is to her, and it’s true. Other building reporters whose positions have been closed and are being replaced by private reporters on hire by each trial’s attorneys have been resentful. One refused to help the outside reporter connect his equipment with realtime for her judge. She threw a fit when her bailiff allowed the outside reporter to use employee restrooms in the back hallway. She raised problems about security if outside reporters are given access to our hallways and are plugging into judges’ networks to provide realtime feeds. Louise was surprised by their actions; she feels that it’s not these individual reporters who are the cause of the courts shutting down court reporter positions and laying off court reporters. She said it’s hard enough floating into a foreign environment, especially knowing you may not be welcome. She made herself available to the very grateful outside reporter for questions and tips. The more resentful reporter who made the waves in the building later asked a bailiff, “Should I have helped with the realtime connection when the judge asked me to?”
The bailiff responded that as with any situation she comes across when she finds someone that needs help, she has two choices. If she were to see someone laying on the sidewalk in front of her when she’s walking by, does she (1) stop to see if the person is okay, and whether she can offer assistance or get help? Or does she (2) just keep walking and pretend she doesn’t see the person? I guess it’s not as simple as that in this situation, though. The replaced court reporter has to put aside any hurt ego and help an ex-staff have a smoother transition to a stranger who’s doing a job that she had been doing for years and did not voluntarily leave. Another reporter described how she feels about the whole situation as “betrayed.” It’s just all pretty sad stuff. Damn housing crisis that started this whole downward financial spiral worldwide. (Okay, I know it’s more complicated than that.)
It’s Friday, we’re going to have angry jurors who thought they were going to get away with not having to serve jury duty until they got notice to come in the very last day of their on-call week, and I’d much rather spend it hanging out with my ex-(sob) court reporter, Louise, for the last time than stuck in the beginning of a 3-week-long trial about a yard sprinkler system that injured someone.
